Alphabet Soup
by Writer's-BlockDP
Summary: 26 oneshots and drabbles based off each of the letters of the alphabet. The latest - Ghost: Sometimes, Danny is a lot more ghost than he would care to admit.
1. Again

_Well, you have officially stumbled upon my new collection, affectionately dubbed "Alphabet Soup." This will be a collection of 26 oneshots and/or drabbles, each based around a word that starts with each letter of the alphabet. Nothing in this collection should be rated over K+, but if I feel that a particular oneshot should be a T I'll make sure to post a warning in the beginning._

_This first one is a cute little Maddie/Danny bonding piece, starting with clips from his childhood and ending up sometime after she has found out about his powers._

_Spoilers: possibly slightly for Phantom Planet, but not necessarily. Depends on how you look at it._

_Disclaimer: I officially own absolutely nothing in this collection but my own ideas and writing. The characters are not mine, hence why I am posting this on _fan_fiction. Well, duh._

* * *

"One more time Mommy?" The little boy pleaded with the attractive brunette standing behind the swing.

"Okay sweetie, just one more and then we have to leave." She grabbed firmly onto the edges of her son's swing, rocking it gently back and forth, building up more and more momentum until she finally let it go in the hardest push yet.

They'd had a full day already, going to the zoo in the morning and then out to lunch at a local restaurant. Then they had spent the rest of the afternoon at the park and were just now about to go home for dinner. Her husband had promised to cook, and despite the disastrous results the last time he made such an offer, she took him up on it. He swore he wouldn't suck the house into a parallel dimension again, though she had forgiven him for that incident after he finished scouring the kitchen ceiling. Who knew potatoes could stick like that…?

As she pushed her son on the swing the young mother was completely unaware that all afternoon he had been preparing himself and working up the nerve to do something that he had never done before. As the swing was propelled forward he finally managed to force his hands to release the chains and flew off the swing, landing and tumbling across the edge of the sandy area.

Laughter bubbled from his throat and spilled out, consoling his worried mother but not enough to stop her from scolding him. After she delivered a short lecture on swing safety he cocked his head at her and widened his eyes in the cute puppy-dog stare that she'd never been able to resist.

"Again?" he asked eagerly.

His mother started to shake her head but then remembered the first time she had jumped off a swing. The feeling of flying, of never coming back to the earth… it had been wonderful and she had never wanted to stop. She could hardly blame her son for loving it.

"Okay… but just one more time."

* * *

The woman watched out the kitchen window as her son jogged away from the front door and on down the street. He had grown up so much over the years that she often found herself wondering where the time had gone. He had matured, both in body and in mind, and was no longer the young boy she had once longed to protect. She still yearned to keep him safe, to hold him in her arms and make all of his troubles disappear. Even knowing that he was nearly a teenager now, that he was growing up, she couldn't help but still think of him as her little boy, begging for just one more treat.

He was pushing her away more and more now, wanting to do more things on his own. She could understand this, yet couldn't help wanting him to still be able to come to her when he needed help. His friends were often the ones he turned to now and were the ones in whom he confided his deepest secrets.

She could still remember building forts in the living room out of blankets, huddling under a quilt in the dark and talking for hours until they fell asleep. She could remember curling up on the couch and watching cartoons. She could remember him sitting in her lap on his bed as she read a story to him or made one up herself.

That really wasn't so long ago. So why was it so hard now?

* * *

"Mom?"

He was standing in the doorway looking in. She lowered her book and patted the bed beside her. Padding in softly, he sat down next to her, not speaking again for a long while. She had begun reading again and was startled when he whispered a soft question.

"Have you ever wished that you could fly?"

This was a strange question, though not completely unusual. They had often sparked long discussions when he was younger by just such an idea. She barely thought about it before she answered, just as quietly. "I always used to. When I was a little girl I would run as fast as I could through the park. I think I believed that if I just went fast enough I could lift off the ground. I loved jumping off swings just for that moment when I felt completely weightless. It was like I could just stay there in the air and if I just went high enough I would be able to keep going forever."

He had a soft smile on his face, no doubt lost in his own memories of just such moments. She settled back into the pillow, wanting to savor this moment. There were so few of them these days.

She asked another question, never wanting this to end. "Have you ever wanted to be able to shift between forms?"

* * *

Maddie watched silently as her sixteen-year-old son leapt from his bedroom window and didn't fall to earth. This had become a fairly normal sight to her over the past several weeks since she found out about his… special abilities. Even with everything else he was able to do, flying was still his favorite. He often went out for no reason but to just enjoy himself.

She still found herself pondering over when it had become normal for him to do this, and realized that she had never known when it had. He had suddenly started pushing all of his family away whenever they became too close, spending more and more time with his friends. Then suddenly he had become closer to his sister for no apparent reason. Maddie had found herself anxiously awaiting her turn.

She had always been incredibly close to her son and was always hurt by the distance he kept. Now that she finally knew why he had done that, she also knew that there could never be another rift that great between the two of them ever again.

She was broken out of her thoughts when Danny entered the kitchen through the wall, landing beside her. "Do you ever think about that conversation we had about flying when I was fourteen?"

Maddie smiled, "All the time. I never dreamed back then that it would come true."

He blushed and averted his eyes, then met hers again, somewhat shyly. "I just realized that ever since you've found out about my secret I still haven't offered to take you with me. Do you want to come?" He held out his hand a bit, palm up as an invitation.

She smiled and took the proffered hand. "I'd love to."

He grinned back at her cheekily and the next thing she knew they were shooting up through the ceiling at a mind-blowing pace, reaching the level just below the clouds within a few moments. Knowing her love for thrill rides at the amusement park he resolved to deliver just that, throwing in a few barrel rolls along the way, then evening out after a couple of quick loops.

They slowed momentarily, his glowing green eyes meeting her own violet pair. He seemed to be weighing options in his head, then the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly. "Do you trust me?"

The question was odd, especially considering that she had already consented to being pulled up several thousand feet. Maddie nodded, but had only barely begun to consider the implications. Suddenly her hand was released and she began to freefall. A short scream of shock was ripped from her lungs before she had a chance to think, then she looked back at her son and saw him falling beside her, eyes closed and arms outstretched. She _did_ trust him. Closing her eyes, she thought of nothing but the thrill of the freefall. It was like skydiving but without the parachute or other equipment. Completely exhilarating, it gave her the sense of flying on her own.

She felt his hand in hers again and they flipped back up through a large loop and came to a stop. A brightness in his sparkling green eyes that had not been there before greeted her when she looked at him, and she had no doubt that the same light was shining from her own eyes as well.

"Again?" This time it was she who voiced the breathless question, rather than him as it had been throughout his younger years. The request was met with a wide grin as they began their ascent again through a path of crazily impossible twists and turns.

This was far from normal, but Maddie couldn't bring herself to care. As long as she had the chance to fly again, nothing normal could ever compare.

After all, they'd both always loved to fly…

* * *

_Sadly enough, this is what I do when I procrastinate writing other stuff. Actually, this is a result of me not wanting to start my calculus homework just yet. Hope it turned out okay anyway._

_Hope you liked it, and I'll be posting the next one whenever I have something else I don't feel like doing- _(cough)_ -I mean... uh... more free time! Haha. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought!_


	2. Bear

_Bit of a warning: I was writing this because I was bored in class. My writing kept getting interrupted by notetaking, and I had to regather my thoughts between actually paying attention, so this may seem a bit jumpy and/or scattered. Consider yourself warned._

_Rating: K, for fluffy adorableness._

_Spoilers: Nothing really, but I don't think you'd recognize the bear if you didn't see The Fenton Menace. Shouldn't be a big deal._

* * *

Jazz absently fingered the fluffy white hair on her teddy bear's head, leaning back in bed with a notebook. It was only 9:00, but she was exhausted, having been woken up the previous night by Danny's cries in the next room.

She had gone in to see what was wrong and found her little brother trapped in what was apparently a horrible nightmare. His sheets were entwined around his still thrashing legs, and he whimpered a bit as he clawed at the bed with his right hand. His left forearm was pressed tightly against his chest, breath coming in short gasps. He was mumbling something under his breath, but what little Jazz was able to hear was not semantically sound enough for her to understand what he was dreaming about.

With a tired yet sympathetic sigh, his sister ignored the fact that it was around three in the morning, carefully resting her hand on his shoulder and stroking it, running her other hand through his hair and making soft comforting noises.

Her hands and voice had the desired soothing effect, and Danny whimpered softly once more before relaxing under her gentle touch. She stayed in his room for a while longer, perched on the side of his bed until his breathing evened out to a more normal level. Suppressing a yawn, Jazz untangled the blankets and tucked her brother in, then tiptoed back to her own room.

Now, in the middle of her attempts to get ahead on homework, Jazz was having troubles staying awake. Even in her tired state, her mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, trying to figure out what Danny was dreaming about.

There were so many possibilities. She chewed absently on the end of her pencil, staring at the list she had already created in her notebook. It could be anything from harm befalling someone he loved, to losing a fight, to becoming evil. There was really no way to tell.

Jazz ran her fingers along Bearbert's head once more, lost in thought. With a final tired sigh she gave up on accomplishing any more homework and got ready for bed. As she crawled under the blankets, however, she couldn't help but continue puzzling over her brother's frightening dream the night before. She lay awake for some time longer before finally drifting off.

When Maddie Fenton came upstairs later that night and peeked in on her daughter, she found her sleeping peacefully, Bearbert Einstein cuddled to her chest and a small smile on her face. The mother softly closed the door, the corners of her own mouth turning upward slightly at the sight of her unusually grown-up daughter finding comfort in her old teddy bear.

As she turned to head down the hall to her room, she found Danny just walking out of his own bedroom. They traded puzzled glances before he asked what she was smiling about. "Jazz is sleeping with Bearbert. Don't tell her I said this, but I find it adorable how much she still loves that old thing." Goodnights were exchanged, then they went their separate ways.

Danny, upon checking to make sure his mother was out of sight, twisted invisible and intangible and stuck his head through Jazz's door. A soft smile graced his own features as he stood there for several minutes watching his sister sleep. All the times Jazz had been there for him when he needed comfort, and she received hers from a childhood toy.

Walking through the wall into his own room, Danny fell into bed with a soft sigh. With everything she did for him, it was easy to think of Jazz as invincible, but sometimes even the comforters need to be comforted.

* * *

_Well... how'd that go? Let me know what you think, especially because the only reason I'm posting this is because I'm currently sitting in bed being sick and miserable and frustrated over silly compiler errors on my programming homework, and I wanted some reviews to cheer me up. Please help?_


	3. Memories

_I know I've said this before, but sorry about the long waits in between everything. I write when the inspiration hits; I don't force the words to come. _AtF _will be updated eventually; I know it's been a year, but I haven't had a lot of time, and keep getting new oneshot ideas that won't leave me alone. I do promise to see everything through to completion eventually; I hate seeing anything go unfinished._

_Well, I was originally going to continue this collection in alphabetical order, but can't help the order of inspiration (...yes, that was sorta supposed to be a [really bad] pun, but only my fellow math geeks will truly appreciate it). So instead, here's a little spinoff thing that I came up with while bored at a conference a couple of weeks ago. I had just reread _Memories_, by _Nylah_, and if you haven't read it you most certainly should. This is a bit of what was going on inside Danny's head just after he "disappeared"... I'm not going to say any more because I don't want to ruin _Memories_ for those of you who are missing out. You don't have to read it in order to understand this; it can be seen as a stand-alone oneshot, but you'll understand more of the background if you do read it. I didn't follow the story exactly; I wrote this based on just a few paragraphs in the original, and it kinda took on a mind of its own. It still fits in with that fic though; I didn't change anything too drastically, just a few minor details. Enough rambling. Moving on now._

_Disclaimer: I own diddly-squat. DP was not created by me, _Memories'_ original idea was not created by me. All I own are the words on this page._

_Spoilers: Slightly for Urban Jungle, but only in the form of Danny's new power. I tried not to ruin _Memories_, but would still recommend reading that first._

_Rating: probably a low T, for psychological torture and electrocution. Nothing graphic.  
_

_Enough of this blathering from me; on with the fic!  
_

* * *

There's nobody here. Other than me, that is. The room seems to echo with each wheezing breath I take, mocking my weakness. Another echo joins the first as I shift in place, chains rattling with the movement of my arms. The only source of light is the dim green glow from the metallic links holding me in place. They keep me from changing into my ghost form; my first futile attempt shocked me into unconsciousness, only to be rudely awakened by a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head by my captor. I've already discovered that the chains are too short to allow me to sit, forcing me to remain standing. Any attempts to fall asleep are met with an electrical shock from the cuffs; they shock me anytime they are forced to support more weight than just my arms.

The walls are damp, and though I can feel it soaking into the back of my shirt, I long to feel that moisture on my tongue. It's been far too long since I've had anything to eat or drink. Unfortunately, the angle my arms are held at impairs my ability to turn far enough for my face to reach the wall. The dampness serves me no use except to make me shiver and occasionally cough violently, pulling my arms against the chains out of reflex and inadvertently setting off the shocking mechanism.

My legs shaking and threatening to give out, I lean more heavily against the wall, but am still unable to give them a rest. They suddenly buckle beneath me and the wristbands do their job, halting my fall after just an inch or two. I grind out a gasp between my teeth as the pulsing electricity assails my weakened body. The chains have been designed well, I note absently as I straddle to get my legs to work again. They emit fairly low-level electricity in a pulse, never getting powerful enough to scramble my thoughts but certainly enough to keep me awake and paying attention. I finally get my knees locked and lean back against the wall again. My eyes slip closed and I command my legs to continue working before surrendering to oblivion.

I wake with a start to the sound of approaching footsteps, amazed that my legs have obeyed my command. I have no way of telling how long I managed to sleep, but it doesn't feel like it was very long. Of course, that could simply be due to the fact that I have gotten a total of maybe thirty minutes of sleep over the course of the past three days.

_He_ comes in through the heavy wooden door that serves as the only entrance and exit to this cell. It slams behind him with a reverberating clang. I'm too busy trying to avoid looking at the pitcher of water in his hand to pay the door any notice. My mouth is too dry to water at the sight of it, but I'm fighting to keep a look of abject longing off my face.

He pours some of the water from the pitcher into a cup and offers it to me, holding it to my lips. My body screams at me to take a drink, even one sip, but I stubbornly purse my lips tightly together and refuse to give in. The cup withdraws, and he takes a careful sip, studying me intently. I can't help but feel like a specimen under a microscope as he scrutinizes my weakened form. I know he sees that I can barely keep myself upright, am on the verge of a dangerous level of dehydration, and have dried blood on my forearms from where the cuffs have bitten into my wrists. I have no doubt that there is also severe bruising on my wrists, and possibly even permanent scarring from the electrical shocks.

"I hope you realize that you aren't getting any water except what you take from my hand, and will not be set loose or fed until you submit yourself to me." His arrogant voice bounces off the walls, a smirk settling into place on his lips.

If I had enough moisture in my mouth I would spit in his smarmy, overconfident face. I opt for a sharp retort instead, feeling my lip curl of its own accord, voice unfortunately raspy. "I'd rather die than take anything from you. Go back to your lonely-guy cat and leave me alone." The venom in my voice would put the world's deadliest spider to shame, but _he_ didn't even blink, opting instead to flick his wrist and completely soak the front of my shirt with the remaining water from the cup.

"Why would I need a cat when I've got you, my boy? One of these days you will call me Father, and that bumbling idiot who formerly claimed the role will die."

If I had the energy I'm sure my eyes would be blazing brilliant green right about now. "I am not, and will never be, your son!" I seethe. The backhand across the face is not very hard but still catches me completely off-guard, snapping my head to the left. I am immediately lost to the struggle to get my legs back beneath the rest of me in order to assuage the pressure of the cuffs on my wrists and the electrical shocks wracking my body.

I have no sooner than resumed my previous position, panting with exertion, than I am hit full in the face by the remaining water from the pitcher. Coughing and sputtering, I lick desperately at my lips, managing to wet my tongue.

"Ah, but you will," he says in response to my earlier declaration. "It's only a matter of time."

The curses I throw after his retreating form would make a sailor blush, but he doesn't seem to notice. The door slams behind him with a clang, locks slipping into place simply to reinforce the hopelessness of my situation.

The dampness of the cool room is beginning to sink into my bones as I stand there, shivering in my soaked clothing. I don't know how long it takes them to dry; I am too focused on my worry about _why_ I am shivering. My ice powers make me extremely tolerant of the cold; the only times I've shivered at all in the past year have been when my ghost sense has gone off. The fact that I am so cold now means that my ghost powers have been suppressed almost to the point of nonexistence.

I don't know how many hours later it is when _he_ comes back. My cough has gotten worse, and I have been shocked awake several more times. _He_ enters the cell, looking like he has just stepped off a magazine cover, shooting me a self-satisfied smirk. We almost perfectly repeat our actions from earlier, right down to me winding up with a stinging cheek and once again soaked and shivering for the next several hours.

The next time _he_ returns I accept a sip of water for the sole purpose of spitting it back out in his face. This time the blow to my head leaves my ears ringing and teeth rattling, to the point that I don't even notice at first when the water hits me or the door slams in his wake. Panting from the effort of standing and shivering even more violently than before, I feel something in my mind give way. I can't keep this up much longer.

When _he_ returns again I sob without tears but remain compliant. As I drink greedily from the cup I can't help but think of it as a betrayal.

* * *

_Let me know what you thought by pressing that pretty little button down there!_


	4. Ghost

_Hey, look who's back and actually posting something! This is just a little file that I wrote last fall when I was killing time between classes and just found on my computer. Figured I'm probably never going to add anything else to this, so I might as well share it. This is fully adoptable; if you decide to turn this into a full-fledged story, please let me know in a review; I'd love to read it!_

_Apologies for the lack of editing and details; I know the ending is a bit rushed but I ran out of things to say._

_Rating: K_

_Spoilers: Double Cross My Heart_

* * *

There was one thing he would never admit to his friends. He didn't care what they thought of him, so long as he never had to reveal this one secret facet of his new personality. Ever since he got his powers, it's seemed like he always knows when something bad is about to happen. He can more readily feel people's stares on his back, and always knows when someone is watching him.

Lately, it's become more than just that. His sixth sense has been becoming gradually more sensitive as he's learned more about himself and just what the portal accident did to him. Now it's not just a matter of sensing other ghosts, or heightened awareness of his surroundings. Now he's beginning to feel the emotions of the people around him.

It started out as just an occasional _feeling_ that his mom was more worried than she let on. That his sister was in love with someone – not that he's been able to figure out with whom. Then when he was alone in the room with his dad, his mom walked in and he found himself almost blown over by the sudden surge of _affection_ radiating from the two of them. Creepily enough, it's the same affection he's felt from Tucker, always directed at his PDA.

Then there's Sam. More than once, he's felt the same affection from her when he's entered the room, and has definitely caught some _worry_ when his ghost sense goes off unexpectedly. His friends don't know that he can feel their emotions. They don't know that it started out only being the stronger emotions of the people closest to him, and now with just a bit of concentration he can feel even the weakest emotions of people he's never met before in his life.

They also don't know that this is the reason why he mistrusted Gregor from the start. It had nothing to do with what he told his friends – that he thought the other boy was a Guys in White agent, sent to investigate him. It also didn't have to do with any type of poorly-disguised jealousy.

No, he could _feel_ Gregor. He could feel that the other boy didn't really care for Sam, not the way he said he did. He knew at first glance that Sam would only wind up having her heart broken, and wanted to do his best to prevent it if possible. The _fake_ and _pretend_ radiating from Gregor was enough to make him almost physically sick.

There is one thing he will never admit to his friends. He will never admit that sometimes he is a whole lot more _ghost_ than they know.


End file.
